'Dalliance' (Remus/Sirius, PG-13)
For the talented and wonderful regala_electra, a belated birthday present. You are amazing chica, and I'm very happy to know you. I only wish this could be longer, but my brain is frazzled and I should actually be writing a script right now. D'oh! Therefore, I wrote a ficlet based on our evil plot bunny discussions. ;)
Dalliance
by ignited
Remus/Sirius, MWPP, AU, a sequel of sorts to one of the four scenarios in 'The Ballad Of Polythene Pam'. Helps to read that first. Genderfuck. Nearly 700 words.
He has avoided her for three days.
Three days, without as much as a glance, between classes, in the common room, his room - three days. He’ll sit across from her and put butter on his toast, lean an elbow and slouch, lick his fingers when he’s done. But he won’t look at her, or talk to her. He only goes on, as does she, on to class, quiet, too quiet, then the class after. It’s a cycle.
It’s a ridiculous cycle that Remus will not be a part of.
Therefore, it’s a warm morning in March that she stops him near the greenhouse. They’re in the shadow, and beyond that, rolling green grass, sturdy oak trees, and all that other spring nonsense that Remus hasn’t paid attention to. It’s nice, this, it’s warm and quiet. Sirius is smoking. Remus has never seen him smoke before.
“Where did that come from?” Remus asks, immediately regretting it. Don’t bog him down with useless questions - get to the point. That’s it, there, slam a hand against the wall right near his head, so he can’t get away.
Sirius only takes the cigarette out of his mouth, lets the smoke come from his nostrils like some beautiful sort of dragon. The smoke brushes the bare skin of Remus’s arm, right before Sirius leans into her arm, lets the soft dark hair tickle her.
Her face remains expressionless.
Sirius, head canting, only shrugs, puts the cigarette out with his boot. “Thought I’d try it for a lark. It means nothing to me.”
A pause. Remus raises her eyebrows. “You’ve avoided me for the past few days. Why?”
It’s direct, unwavering, much like her hold on the wall, her hold on his gaze. She doesn’t flinch when Sirius traces his fingertips up her other arm, the curve of her breast, up her shirt and to her neck. His hand lingers, before he moves a lock of hair away from her face and behind her ear.
Remus rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? To make me question you.”
“You’ve always been the clever one, haven’t you?” Sirius says, shrugging nonchalantly. “Yes. We haven’t since -- you know.”
His voice gets lower, eyes widen - he’s like a child, hiding away from his parents, having broken a vase or something important.
Remus sighs, turns her head a little. Sirius’s hand is tracing her jaw line, running over a tiny little scar, another one to add to the collection. He leans forward, stretches and bends, and then he sniffs her. Like a dog. Takes in her scent, breathes in deep, exhales, faint whiff of bacon and cigarettes. It’s actually not that bad.
And it’s a trick, this, but she’ll fall for it regardless.
“Don’t,” she breathes, her eyes shut, brow furrowing.
But then he’s already unbuttoned her blouse, his hand on her breast, moving, moving-
She’s unable to protest after that.
“I saw you. The other night. With Lily.”
Remus lifts her head, fringe in her eyes. A small cough. “What?”
“With Lily. In the hallway.” Sirius shrugs. He’s smoking again. “Intimate.”
“I’ve never had any intimate experiences, Sirius,” Remus says very tolerantly, fingertips tracing the length of Sirius’s leg. “Only dalliances.”
Sirius’s laughter comes quick, a barking noise. “So what’s this, then?”
“Something…difficult.”
He leans forward, watching Remus shift her position, bed sheet covering her chest, leaning on his thighs. Sirius twirls a lock of Remus’s hair for a moment, before dropping it and nodding abruptly.
“I think you’re far too used to this. It isn’t a game, Remus. You don’t need to make it into one. You can act as nonchalant and whoring as you please, but you’ll still come to me when the night comes and the moon wanes.”
“Perhaps,” Remus says, “I will.”
The light from Sirius’s cigarette dulls, goes out. Other than the soft glow of a candle near them, the room is almost entirely dark.
“…But you’ll still open the door,” she says, her hands moving, right until Sirius lets out a moan.
END
Dalliance
by ignited
Remus/Sirius, MWPP, AU, a sequel of sorts to one of the four scenarios in 'The Ballad Of Polythene Pam'. Helps to read that first. Genderfuck. Nearly 700 words.
He has avoided her for three days.
Three days, without as much as a glance, between classes, in the common room, his room - three days. He’ll sit across from her and put butter on his toast, lean an elbow and slouch, lick his fingers when he’s done. But he won’t look at her, or talk to her. He only goes on, as does she, on to class, quiet, too quiet, then the class after. It’s a cycle.
It’s a ridiculous cycle that Remus will not be a part of.
Therefore, it’s a warm morning in March that she stops him near the greenhouse. They’re in the shadow, and beyond that, rolling green grass, sturdy oak trees, and all that other spring nonsense that Remus hasn’t paid attention to. It’s nice, this, it’s warm and quiet. Sirius is smoking. Remus has never seen him smoke before.
“Where did that come from?” Remus asks, immediately regretting it. Don’t bog him down with useless questions - get to the point. That’s it, there, slam a hand against the wall right near his head, so he can’t get away.
Sirius only takes the cigarette out of his mouth, lets the smoke come from his nostrils like some beautiful sort of dragon. The smoke brushes the bare skin of Remus’s arm, right before Sirius leans into her arm, lets the soft dark hair tickle her.
Her face remains expressionless.
Sirius, head canting, only shrugs, puts the cigarette out with his boot. “Thought I’d try it for a lark. It means nothing to me.”
A pause. Remus raises her eyebrows. “You’ve avoided me for the past few days. Why?”
It’s direct, unwavering, much like her hold on the wall, her hold on his gaze. She doesn’t flinch when Sirius traces his fingertips up her other arm, the curve of her breast, up her shirt and to her neck. His hand lingers, before he moves a lock of hair away from her face and behind her ear.
Remus rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? To make me question you.”
“You’ve always been the clever one, haven’t you?” Sirius says, shrugging nonchalantly. “Yes. We haven’t since -- you know.”
His voice gets lower, eyes widen - he’s like a child, hiding away from his parents, having broken a vase or something important.
Remus sighs, turns her head a little. Sirius’s hand is tracing her jaw line, running over a tiny little scar, another one to add to the collection. He leans forward, stretches and bends, and then he sniffs her. Like a dog. Takes in her scent, breathes in deep, exhales, faint whiff of bacon and cigarettes. It’s actually not that bad.
And it’s a trick, this, but she’ll fall for it regardless.
“Don’t,” she breathes, her eyes shut, brow furrowing.
But then he’s already unbuttoned her blouse, his hand on her breast, moving, moving-
She’s unable to protest after that.
“I saw you. The other night. With Lily.”
Remus lifts her head, fringe in her eyes. A small cough. “What?”
“With Lily. In the hallway.” Sirius shrugs. He’s smoking again. “Intimate.”
“I’ve never had any intimate experiences, Sirius,” Remus says very tolerantly, fingertips tracing the length of Sirius’s leg. “Only dalliances.”
Sirius’s laughter comes quick, a barking noise. “So what’s this, then?”
“Something…difficult.”
He leans forward, watching Remus shift her position, bed sheet covering her chest, leaning on his thighs. Sirius twirls a lock of Remus’s hair for a moment, before dropping it and nodding abruptly.
“I think you’re far too used to this. It isn’t a game, Remus. You don’t need to make it into one. You can act as nonchalant and whoring as you please, but you’ll still come to me when the night comes and the moon wanes.”
“Perhaps,” Remus says, “I will.”
The light from Sirius’s cigarette dulls, goes out. Other than the soft glow of a candle near them, the room is almost entirely dark.
“…But you’ll still open the door,” she says, her hands moving, right until Sirius lets out a moan.
END